


Ninety-Eight Point Four

by Karracaz



Category: Star Trek (2009), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Gen, Klingon, Star Trek: AOS, Star Trek: TOS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-30
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-28 11:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karracaz/pseuds/Karracaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Klingons have left a little surprise for the Enterprise Crew.  Can Spock figure it out before it is too late?</p><p>Not a crossover story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ninety-Eight Point Four.

Series: TOS.

Characters: Kirk, Spock, McCoy and others.

Rating: G - Suitable for all.

Author: KarraCaz

Disclaimer: Paramount/Viacom copyrights Star Trek. I do not own any of these characters. I write about them for pleasure and not profit.  
o0o

Aboard the battle cruiser KyakH'ta, Commander Kor hollow-eyed and hungrily alert, viewed the overhead screen that dominated the cramped bridge. Abruptly he tensed, and sat forward in the command chair, his impatience dissipating as a new star winked around the curve of the isolated world. Slowly, the intruder blossomed into a shape he recognised.

As cold starlight glittered on worked metal, he casually transferred his attention to the deck officer standing deferentially beside him. "So," he murmured gently. "A fish has come to explore our bait."

"HISlaH, joH." True, Lord, the deck officer replied in a sibilant hiss. "And a Federazhon Duj as we hoped."

Kor's mouth twisted into a brooding smile of contentment, "More than I had hoped, Qurosh."

"JoH?" Kurosh questioned dutifully.

"It is the 'entepray'." Kor replied with evident satisfaction. "And this time she will be mine, Qurosh. She will not slip through my fingers again."

A Klingon crewmember, one wary eye on Kor, hurried forward to whisper in Kurosh's ear.

"Lord," The deck officer said, waving the subordinate away, "we are picking up a broadcast from the Federazhon Duj. They are trying to contact their observation station on the planet."

"Then it has begun." Kor's eyes hooded with pleasure. "How was the jo', mIqta' set?"

"For a radius of five-thousand paces from the Federazhon base. It will respond only to Hu'Man body heat as programmed, JoH. There can be no escape."

"Maj' QaH," Kor did not hide his sudden jubilance. "The wheel has turned for us, Qurosh. I feel it in my blood."

Excitement flared in Kurosh's eyes. They burned yellow, irises slitted like those of a goat. He answered in a whisper. "Qapla' Daq mirqH, joH'a. Qapla'. Success at last, my Lord. Success."

O0o

The transporter set them down in a wide, bowl-shaped valley, ringed by a circle of low scrubby hills beneath a shimmering golden sky; the ruins of a past civilisation lay all about in massive tumbled blocks of masonry. Already perspiring heavily in the fierce heat, Kirk wiped at his forehead and temples, his mouth creasing into a lazy smile as he saw his First Officer instantly sweep the area, searching for readings.

"Found anything yet, Spock?"

The Vulcan looked up from his tricorder unperturbed by the blistering heat, oblivious to Kirk's gentle irony.

"There is a life form registering at bearing one three five, Captain. Just over that rise…"

Kirk nodded and mopped again at the fresh beads of perspiration that broke out on his face. A horde of tiny insects that had descended upon the human members of the landing party, no doubt stirred up by their sudden arrival on the usually empty world, irritated him even more.

"Damn crazy insects." Doctor McCoy grumbled. He panted in the furnace- like temperature, swatting frantically at the air around his face and head as the flies persisted in seeking out the moist places of mouth, eyes and nostrils.

"You okay, Bones?"

McCoy slapped at his face and neck, grimacing through clenched teeth. "This is worse than Vulcan, Jim. Let's get out of here before these bugs eat us alive."

"Indeed, Captain," Spock interjected quietly, although the tiny flies seemed to prefer honest red blood instead of Vulcan green and he remained unaffected by the insect attack. "The life signs are very weak. I suggest we hurry."

Kirk gestured to the two security officers, "Keep in direct sight. Report anything even remotely suspicious."

"Aye, sir." The men reached for the phasers hanging at their belts, still slapping vehemently at the swarm around their heads as they moved off to follow his orders.

The weakening life signs picked up by Spock's tricorder, led them to what was left of the Federation Research base on Hietala's World. The camp looked as if a tsuni had struck it, walls stove in, windows broken, roofs askew. A loose tarpaulin flapped with monotonous regularity in the playful breeze, accentuating the desolation.

McCoy stared uneasily around at the destroyed and lifeless base camp, his gaze straying to the flat, white ruins beyond. "This could be the reason we didn't get any response to our calls, Jim. Looks like one hell of a storm hit this place."

"There's not much left, I agree. What about those life signs, Spock?"

"Captain! Over here." The yell of alarm brought the three Enterprise officers hurriedly around the flank of the derelict laboratory. Navarin, along with Eluard, the two security personnel, stood over a row of six neatly aligned human bodies laid out among a scatter of debris and battered artefacts.

As McCoy knelt down beside the first prone figure, his medical tricorder held out before him, a huge cloud of the miniscule flies took to the air. With sweat prickling his forehead and cheeks, trying to make a diagnosis Bones swatted with demented abandon as they headed straight for him. "They're in some sort of weird stasis."

"You mean they aren't dead." Dismayed Kirk shivered despite the heat that burned down upon his uncovered head. Eyes half closed against the dazzle of harsh sunlight he peered closer at one blackened, unrecognisable face, his gorge rising. "Bones, this can't have been the result of storm damage. Is it a disease, some kind of virus?"

McCoy moved onto the next stiff-limbed, twisted form. "I can't say for certain until I get these poor devils up to the ship and run some tests. But if it is an infection, it's one I've never come across before."

Kirk reached for his communicator and flipped the case open. Immediately, Scotty's soft burr came over the speaker. "Scott here, Skipper. Is everything all right, sir?"

"We're all fine, Scotty, but the research team are in a bad way. Have the transporter standing by. And Scotty, I want full decontamination procedures."

"Aye, understood, sir. Scott out."

However, when Kirk turned back to his small landing party a fresh development had occurred. Spock, exploring curiously among the wreckage of the camp, had found something more.

The First Officer pointed out the deep drag marks in the dust with a non-committal expression. They led from the shattered buildings straight to where the six scientists lay.

"But what would do such a thing? And why? It makes no sense." McCoy commented tersely, before an idea suddenly occurred to him. He glanced up and down the broad sweep of ancient roadway with evident misgivings, bathed in perspiration, his uniform shirt stuck to his backbone. The ruins shimmered in the heat haze. The smell of old dust hung in the air.

The same thought had also struck Spock. "They could have been taken as prey, Doctor. The giant arachnids of Gaea III, for example, use venom to incapacitate their victims before consuming them alive."

McCoy shuddered, his imagination working overtime, before he remembered the specifics. His eyes narrowed as he glared at the Vulcan. "Ship's sensors didn't report any animal life down here. This planet is supposed to be as dead as the proverbial dodo."

Spock, head tilted to one side his face unreadable, regarded McCoy. "I was merely stating a 'for instance', Doctor. I did not mean to imply -."

"Well the devil with your 'for instances', you pointy-eared -"

"That's enough, Gentlemen." Kirk cut in, forestalling the preliminaries of battle. He resisted the urge to look at his First Officer, speculating on whether or not the Vulcan had deliberately intended to unnerve McCoy. "Gaen arachnids or not, something is going on here - and I mean to find out what."

"Before it finds us, Jim?"

Spock's eyebrow rose, "Forewarned is forearmed, Doctor."

"Spock's right, Bones." Kirk murmured. "However, your first priority is a medical one. Those research scientists could do with you on board."

Despite McCoy's desire to quit the planet, he still put up a fight. "M'Benga and Christine can cover for awhile. You might need me here -"

"I'm not open to argument on this, Doctor McCoy." Kirk's tone was absolute, but to stall further argument he added conciliatorily, "I need answers, Bones. You're the only one who can provide them."

Mollified but still reluctant to show his relief, McCoy nodded, "I'll start round the clock research. There'll be a cool drink waiting when you beam back up. Take care, Jim. You too, Spock."

"Doctor."

As the pink sparkle of the transporter enveloped McCoy and the injured research team, Kirk glanced up at the unremitting golden eye of the sun overhead. He ran his tongue over dry lips, reminded of his growing thirst by mention of that cool drink. Abruptly, his head started to whirl and he rocked unsteadily back onto his heels. A strong, firm grip closed instantly around his upper arm.

"Captain, are you unwell?"

"I guess I'm not used to this sort of heat, Mr. Spock."

The First Officer inclined his head, impervious to the sweltering temperature or the strong dazzle. "Perhaps if you were to rest in the shade for a moment, sir-"

"I - don't think that will be necessary, Spock. It was only a momentary dizziness." He withdrew his arm pointedly from the First Officer's light hold, swatting uselessly at the kamikaze flies that continued to whirr about his face and neck. "We're wasting time-"

"Perhaps, Captain." Spock agreed, unruffled by Kirk's machismo. "However, it will help no-one by collapsing with sunstroke."

Kirk frowned from under lowering brows before the ridiculousness of his behaviour struck him. He relaxed, smiled slowly, embarrassed at his own reaction,

"Okay, Mom. I'll be a good boy and go sit in the shade -" He turned away laughing at Spock's elevated eyebrow, and froze -

From behind a low screen of fallen stone came what could only have been a robot, quasi-spherical, gleaming with a dull sheen that emphasized the warty looking protuberances on its outer skin. It spotted Navarin and flowed toward him in a rolling motion that resembled a leather ball half-filled with some heavy liquid. As it got nearer, it sprouted a number of gleaming claw-like hooks and an ominous hollow probe that dripped green fluid.

"Look out -." Both Eluard and Kirk shouted at once, but Navarin was already on his back, the hooks ensnared in his clothing, while the robot dragged him towards it at an alarmingly fast rate. Fine strands of some silky filament whipped out and wrapped themselves around the security guards throat, wrists, and ankles contracting rapidly dragging Navarin with them.

Eluard wrenched his phaser from his belt and fired. A burst of searing red light flared around the machine but left it untouched. With a yell, he threw the phaser aside and jumped for Navarin. Fresh strands of the silky material bloomed from the lumpy protrusions and lashed around Eluard binding him to Navarin.

Immediately Kirk leapt forward but Spock quickly held him back, lean fingers tightening almost painfully around his arm. "I believe that would not be wise, Captain."

Kirk thrust him off, his mouth twisting into a snarl. "Those are my men. I'm not going to leave them to that … thing."

However, he was already too late. The robot extended the hollow tube and injected both security guards with the green fluid. They went limp. The machine lost interest. It withdrew the filaments and the tube back within itself before swivelling toward Kirk and Spock. It disgorged a succession of rods, one with a bulbous eye-like structure on its tip, which studied them as it flowed nearer.

"Perhaps if we fired phasers simultaneously, sir?"

Kirk nodded, his eyes fixed on the robot as it inexorably moved in on them. "Set it on destruct. We can't take any chances, Spock."

They both fired, letting the phasers' energy beams play over and around the robot but even with the force doubled, the weapons had little effect on the alien machine. It surged towards them as they continued to watch.

"I believe it is time we exercised our discretionary faculties, Captain."

Kirk threw the First Officer a penetrating look. "You mean cut and run."

"Quite so, sir."

"If I may say so, that is a most… logical suggestion, Mr. Spock."

"Thank you, Captain. I endeavour to be so at all times." Together they turned and fled.

O0o

It was simple to put a good distance between themselves and the alien robot, which travelled at a constant speed, neither slowing nor speeding up. Spock, with calm deliberation, estimated it as a stable six kilometres an hour and although that knowledge comforted Kirk, he realised that if the hunt went on for more than an hour or two he, at least, would be in deep trouble. Despite efforts to double back and check on the two security personnel, the robot had somehow kept tracks on them. With single-minded determination, it followed their every move. Eventually, Kirk knew the machine had to catch up. When that happened and without some way to disable it, he and Spock would end trussed up like chickens exactly like Navarin and Eluard. The thought depressed him.

While Spock's superior Vulcan stamina and familiarization with the temperature allowed him to continue the chase without ill effect, the enervating heat had already taken its toll on Kirk. He gestured for Spock to slow down and sank wearily against an ancient stone pedestal that crumbled at his touch. His lungs laboured for breath. He sucked in the burning air and watched Spock through a red haze of pounding blood. The hard thump, thump of his heart knocked against his ribs.

The Vulcan, intent on their back trail, withdrew his communicator as Kirk watched and started to call the Enterprise.

"Spock -?"

"There is no response, Captain. Our transmissions are being intercepted."

"Intercepted? You mean the robot is -"

"Undoubtedly." The communicator closed with a dull snap. "It seems to possess sensors equal to, or even more sophisticated than those aboard the ship. We may only have a short time in which to rest."

Kirk sighed and took the opportunity to stretch out in the meagre shade of the pedestal. Spock hunkered down on his heels nearby, a wary eye on the path they had just travelled.

With his eyes closed against the fiery blaze of the sun, absently slapping at the midges that plagued him, Kirk asked, "Any idea what it's after, Spock?"

There was a brief pause, "Even speculation needs adequate data, Captain. However, I do have a preliminary hypothesis."

"Explain."

"Very well. This city is quite certainly very ancient and of a high order of workmanship. It also appears to have been destroyed rather than left to decay."

"Agreed. The expedition reports indicated there was a nuclear holocaust in the far past Mr. Spock…"

Spock turned his attention to the vast ruins all around them. "Suppose that the robot was a mechanical guard, one of many that patrolled the city…"


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

"A sort of robotic peace corps?" Kirk asked, opening his eyes and sitting up.

"Precisely, sir. This one could have escaped the destruction, perhaps with minor damage to its programming. Fortunately, it does not seem to want to kill us."

"No, only paralyse us so that we can fry in the sun." Kirk pushed himself slowly to his feet, groaning in weariness as he straightened. He brushed unsuccessfully at the white dust clinging to his sweat-darkened shirt before giving up on the effort. "And that still doesn't explain why it suddenly came to life. The research team have been in operation here, on and off, for almost five years now."

"Hietala's World is adjacent to Klingon territory, Captain. Disputes over ownership are continually arising. With only a six man research team it would be possible for a small party of Klingons to beam down and sabotage the work here."

"Affirmative. Or they might have something less planet bound in mind." Kirk murmured, rubbing at the livid welts on the skin of his face and neck, an itchy legacy of the tiny flies that he could not discourage.

Spock's eyebrow flared upwards. "The Enterprise, Captain? You believe that Kor is trying to acquire the ship."

"After that last debacle with the Organians, you would have thought he would have learned his lesson, but there's a personal score to settle now. The discovery of the robot and what it's capable of might have seemed like the ideal opportunity to get his own back."

"It could be done, even without our capture, sir." Spock said, recalling their previous adventure and his experience with Kor's mind-sifter. "If handled properly, the crew could be made to leave the ship."

"I know, Mr. Spock. Soon a recon party will arrive, then a rescue party, then an even bigger rescue party -" Kirk straightened abruptly. "But right now I think our uninvited guest has just put in an appearance."

He pointed to a small dot moving in and out of the lengthening shadows, following their trail with a measured, automatic persistence, more frightening to Kirk than any reckless charge. "Time we weren't here."

After the brief rest, Kirk had recovered some of his former energy and managed to keep up with Spock as the two of them traversed the rubble littering the ground. There were plenty of places to hide but Kirk declined to give them a second glance, guessing that the robot would have equipment to deal with any such attempt at concealment. He preferred to keep on the move until something more permanent turned up.

Eventually, they came to a part of the city that had escaped total destruction. The buildings had remained intact although most showed signs of decay. Kirk, alert for that one chance they needed to gain some ground on their pursuer, stared up at the crumbling masonry, his attention focused on a huge chunk of stonework that overhung a narrow passageway.

"If we could bring that down it might give us the time we need to contact the ship."

Spock frowned, his winged brows drawing together in thought as he looked back at their own particular nemesis. "Of course, Captain. However, if we time it correctly, perhaps another solution will not be required."

Kirk grinned, "Tell me what you have in mind."

The Vulcan led him back to the restricted entrance to the alleyway where they had a clear view of the oncoming alien artefact. Although their flight had been erratic and was neither the best nor only route available, the robot followed almost exactly in their tracks.

Kirk grinned. "I - see, Mr. Spock."

While the First Officer climbed agilely up the side of the ancient building to reach the protruding block of stone, Kirk backtracked once more, repeatedly walking under the massive cornerstone. Hands on hips, drenched in sweat, lips cracked by dehydration, he watched patiently as Spock gradually loosened the stubborn masonry from its foundations.

"Spock, how's it going?" The Vulcan stopped probing at the base of the shelf and with studied calm placed his shoulder against it, pushing with every ounce of strength he had. "I believe it -is - ready now, Captain."

He looked up from his handiwork as the block shuddered, teetering on the edge of falling. Kirk hurriedly stepped back out of the way, trying to look at the looming stone above him, while keeping an eye on the entranceway as the robot glided into direct sight.

Kirk signalled to Spock to duck down out of view, unsure how many functions the alien machine might have at its disposal, and backed towards the far end of the passage. The robot flowed to a stop, clearly visible in a pool of bright sunlight, and germinated an eyestalk. Kirk watched as it surveyed the terrain, his heart thudding as it inspected the block of overhanging stone. Had it sensed a trap, its mechanical suspicions aroused? He had to get it moving again.

"Hey you automated tin can." He yelled, hoping that Spock's nerves would hold true and the First Officer would remain where he was without taking action. "If you want me so bad - come and get me -"

The eyestalk swivelled in his direction but the robot remained where it was. Kirk groaned, shifting from foot to foot in growing agitation. With a blood-curdling yell, he repeated his former performance running back towards the entrance. "Come on, you puffed up bag of wind. What are you waiting for?"

The robot produced a couple of very efficient grappling hooks along with a gleaming hollow tube and Kirk stopped his advance. He took a step back, checking his position with the huge masonry block that loomed over the alleyway. "Here, doggy, come on, doggy. Let's see what you can do when you really try, smart-ass."

The machine buzzed ominously as the tube levelled on Kirk just above his heart. An intense flare of energy zigzagged towards him. Kirk managed to roll out of the way just in time. He clambered shakily to his feet the burning air whistling in his dry throat.

"Whoa there," he panted, drawing the robot on a little further as it readied itself for another shot. "I guess - you're stopped playing games, huh? This is for real now -"

Again, the machine emitted a high buzzing sound as if in agreement, and fired once more. Kirk dodged but the robot's aim had improved and he felt his arm suddenly go numb. He staggered to his feet, holding the frozen arm to his side, realising that if the machine scored another hit, the game would be up.

He crouched ready for the next jump, sparing a quick glance upwards. The robot moved forward and passed directly under the teetering stonework.

Kirk yelled, "Now, Spock. Now -"

The stone shivered, tottered on the edge, and fell with a crash that threw Kirk off his feet. As he lay on the ground, groggy with fatigue, enveloped in clouds of choking white stone dust, he was dimly aware of another crash that shortly followed the first. Still shaken, one thought uppermost in his mind, he scrambled upright.

"Spock, did we -?" The feverish question cut off as he saw the mounds of broken stone where the frail shell of the building had once been.

"Spock?" He cried in a panic, heaving at the mass of debris with his one good hand. "Spock, answer me, damn it -"

"Here, Captain. I - am here." And the suffocating powder thinned to reveal the First Officer climbing slowly to his feet, covered from head to feet in the drifting white stone residue.

Kirk swallowed the lump that came into his throat, brushing at the caked dust and mingled sweat on his face. He looked from his First Officer to the tumbled marble where the alley building had collapsed covering his fright with humour, "This could be deemed wilful damage to a priceless relic, Mr. Spock."

Spock coughed brushing ineffectually at the dust that clung to him, "I am ignorant of the highways and byways of bureaucratic policy, Captain. However, it does seem a possibility."

It was only then that he noticed Kirk's protective stance. "You are hurt, sir."

"I tangled with our late friend's stun attachment. I don't think the damage is permanent but it's not to be recommended."

Together they examined the rubble that blocked the alleyway. Kirk swung a foot at the imposing lump of masonry, which had buried the alien machine beneath it. "Could that thing still be in working order? It might be valuable to the Federation if we had chance to study it."

"Possibly," Spock granted. "It is certainly a sophisticated mechanism and our joint phasers left it unaffected."

"What the -" Kirk abruptly jerked his idly swinging foot back as the debris shuddered and heaved in spasmodic convulsions. He groaned, "I don't believe it."

"I suspect we have little choice, Captain." Spock pointed out the dusty drill tip industriously boring through the wreckage.

"That thing must have a hide of reinforced tritanium." Kirk commented in disgust. "Come on; let's get out of here, Spock."

Over the next few hours, they gradually worked their way further into the ruined city, trying vainly to shake the inexorable pursuit of the robot. Kirk, more than exhausted, the exposed skin of his face, neck and hands ravaged by insect bites and burnt by the sun, had lost all sense of time. The chase appeared to have gone on forever and he could no longer remember a time when he had not been running for his life. It was only after several minutes that he realized Spock was not at his side. He staggered to a weary halt, the muscles in his legs protesting as he turned to look dazedly over his shoulder. The First Officer, now some yards behind had fallen to his knees, doubled over, sobbing for breath.


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3

"Spock?" Doggedly, Kirk retraced his steps. Stumbling with fatigue, he dropped to his knees beside the ailing Vulcan. Kirk swallowed, forcing out words past moisture-starved lips. "What's the matter?"

The First Officer's skin, unnaturally waxen, shone with a patina of sweat. "I must …rest…Captain."

"Where are you hurt?"

"Just…need rest…few minutes…"

"Stow that baloney, Spock. You're hurt and I want to know where." He paused to add more kindly, "That's an order, Mister."

"I must … have damaged my… side, in the… fall…" Spock admitted with obvious reluctance.

"Let me see." As gently as possible, Kirk eased the Vulcan over. Outstretched on his back upon the hot and dusty ground, the whole of Spock's right side appeared swollen and tender, the bruising evident against the paler abdominal skin. Kirk, though not a medico, nevertheless, recognized broken ribs when he saw them. Spock must have fought the pain for hours. Yet, out in the open, exposed to attack, Kirk knew they could not remain where they were. If the robot discovered them now, it would be the end.

"We have to find somewhere to hole up, a place we can defend." He rose shakily upright as the blood surged from his brain. It was early afternoon but the sun still blazed down out of a cloudless sky, drawing the moisture steadily out of them. Nothing moved; the city lay quiet and golden as far as the eye could see. "Can you stand?"

With Kirk's help, Spock managed to regain his feet. They moved on, holding each other up, resting only when neither of them could take another step. Kirk's thoughts constantly returned to the Enterprise. Had the Klingons managed to capture his ship - or were there even now search parties out, vainly trying to dodge their own relentless machines.

The robot stayed out of sight but Kirk knew it still followed them, never far behind, untouched by their weariness, hunger, and thirst. Spock remained indomitable, but Kirk could no longer force the pace. There was a limit to Vulcan endurance and Spock had very nearly reached it.

Little by little, overcome by exhaustion, he started to believe that it would not be so bad if the robot did find them. At least then he could lie down, sleep. But the memory always resurfaced of his two security guards tethered helplessly together, unable to resist as the alien artifact injected them with that unknown green substance.

If the Klingons had developed a sudden interest in Hietala's World after five years of inaction it could only be because the research crew had discovered something they found significant. What if Spock had it wrong and the robot was a combatant and not an automated guardian of the peace?

Laughter croaked past his dry lips and he tasted blood on his tongue as the dehydrated skin cracked open.

Spock's eyebrow flared upward in enquiry and Kirk ran back over his wandering thoughts for the benefit of his First Officer.

"The Klingons are primarily creatures of discord, Captain." Spock said after a while. "Their interest would be aroused naturally by such a mechanism, one that when programmed, could be used as an aid to warfare on many different worlds."

"Why waste it on us though? Showing off the robots capabilities only gives us the advantage."

"Field trials, Captain." Spock nodded sagely as Kirk flicked him an astonished look, "How better to test an untried weapon than on your main adversary and in control conditions. It is extremely logical, sir."

"In that case, it has to be Kor at back of all this. He's the only Klingon I know of with that much intelligence, and if we're under observation that means sensing equipment relaying information back to a central source; a Klingon ship in orbit."

"Perhaps," Spock considered, and made deductions of his own. "If that is the case there would have to be a limit on the area in which the experiment took place. These ruins seem to be the major patrol route for the robot. If we moved away, it might be possible to outrun it."

Kirk managed an affectionate smile at his Vulcan First Officer. They were exhausted, injured, and in dire need of food and water, yet Spock's faith in their ability to escape persisted. Kirk concluded that wasting what little strength they had left on trying to stay ahead of the robot was a fool's errand. If Spock's theory proved wrong, at least they might find some cool shade and, more importantly, a source of water.

At the thought of water, Kirk's tongue, which already felt too big for his mouth, suddenly acquired the consistency of cotton wool. He tried to think through the pounding in his head but the vision of a cool stream burbling over moss-covered rocks haunted him. The image played repeatedly before his eyes like a looped tape.

By Spock's calculation, the time had long passed for Scotty to send down a rescue team. The Klingons might have given the Chief Engineer a few problems to solve of his own. Kirk's standing order on such occasions was emphatic; any landing party, himself included, was expendable, the Enterprise was not. He could not fault Scotty for following instructions. If he and Spock were to escape, they had to do so using their own wits.

The empty ruins vibrated in the intense heat, bright, flat and uncaring - and the robot was closer now. Kirk could hear the dull rattle of pebbles as it moved through the rubble of nearby buildings. They were hushed sounds, ominous, but still filtered through the noise of blood in his ears.

Some time later, they came upon a road. Once an arterial freeway, the cracked surface was swathed thickly in weeds and other windblown flora. Straight as the crow flies it arrowed toward the low line of hills surrounding the city. On each side, a thin straggle of waist high water-starved bushes and scrub offered a minimum of shelter from the pulsing sunlight, and some concealment from their unrelenting pursuer. The two officers crossed the shattered paving in a staggering run, falling into the scanty cover with relief as they tried to pull the stifling air into their exhausted lungs.

Spock moved first. Alerted by some vague sound he wavered to his knees and peered over the tinder dry vegetation, angular features frozen into a cat mask in a bid to hide his debilitating pain from Kirk's watchful gaze. With the lightest of touches, he tapped the napping Kirk on the shoulder, "Captain? Jim …"

"Whassat?" Kirk sat up blurry-eyed with weariness. Memory returned gradually as he rubbed at parched and blackened lips, "It's caught up, huh?"

He pushed up onto unsteady knees and joined Spock who stared attentively along their back trail. The First Officer silently indicated the ruins and Kirk strained his eyes against the shimmering heat haze.

Fatigue throbbed in every pore as Kirk watched the alien robot flow implacably along their track – and ducked back into cover when he saw the Klingon hunting party following a short way behind. His lips cracked again as he croaked huskily, "It looks as if you were right, Spock. The Klingons are behind this."

Spock pulled his phaser from his belt, "Captain, if one of us were to stay in hiding, act as a decoy, there is a chance…."

Kirk cut him off abruptly. "And you want to stay behind? No, Spock."

"But, Jim -." Spock's voice was little more than a hoarse whisper. "I am unable to move with any speed. It is only logical -."

The Klingons were following the robot, exploring every niche and fissure, hoping to flush the two officers out into the open. Dead-beat, painfully aware of his frozen arm and sunburned skin, Kirk was in no mood for heroics. "You heard me, First Officer. We leave together or not at all."

"The odds against escape are -."

"I'm not interested in the odds. We're moving out. Now." Kirk backed away, pulling Spock with him, keeping out of sight of the Klingons, his eyes intent on the flickering patterns as sunlight glinted off metal embellishments on thick leather tunics.

They headed for the hills, moving with as much speed as their tired bodies could muster, weaving from one ruined building to the next, keeping the road in sight. Spock's face had turned the colour of old putty, yellowish-grey, slick with sweat. Kirk, dizzy with heat and lack of water, waves of pain searing through him as the circulation finally returned to his paralyzed arm, was little better off.

Darkness fell with the suddenness of a tropical night. While a welcome relief from the savage heat of the day, it brought a new set of problems. They headed out into open country. Kirk ran blind, avoiding the huge spikes of alien cacti, spiny sisalina, and tree-like saguaro only with the aid of Spock's Vulcan night vision. One thought remained uppermost in both their minds: they must find a place in which to rest, somewhere safe, somewhere defendable, and they must find it soon ...

The artifact had no such consideration; neither the dark nor the roughness of the terrain handicapped it to any extent. To its mechanical mind, the debris-strewn ruins, the open plains, and the hills were the same. The flexible metal of its outer skin traversed any ground; it was impervious to water. Its programming instructed that it seek out a certain warm-blooded animal within finite parameters. That the animal was human and intelligent did not trouble it in the least.

The building, faintly glimmering in the hazy starlight between the man-high thorny saguaro, sat atop the hill. It was some sort of temple, Kirk guessed, mostly low to the ground with small open courtyards and columned arches. A fallen statue, recognizably humanoid but certainly not human, made a barricade across the entrance. Kirk pointed it out to Spock and still holding each other up, they staggered towards it with faltering steps.

On inspection, the building appeared to have only one entrance and no exit, the refuge they had searched for, or the ultimate death trap. Spock remained dubious, and Kirk adamant. He had noticed the strain etched deeply into his First Officer's face and had not missed the dry cough that Spock tried to disguise. There could be no more running for them even if Kirk had to keep off the robot with his bare hands.

Somehow, they managed to clamber over the obstructing statue. They scouted the area, before reinforcing the barricade with various bits of masonry and debris they found within the derelict building. Both officers were utterly aware that though it might stop an inquisitive Klingon, the blockade had no chance against a determined assault by the artifact. False though it was, Kirk still gained a measure of emotional security from the thick stone-walls that surrounded him on all sides. Better still, deep within the temple, he found oozing from a tiny fissure in the paved floor a minute trickle of water. It was hardly enough to moisten their dry throats but better than going without.

At last, they found a place to rest and hunkered thankfully down in the darkness, taking it in turns to keep watch. With the fall of night came an abrupt drop in temperature. In his weakened condition, it caught Spock unprepared. He could not ignore the cold or suppress the tremors that shook his lean frame, and he no longer had the energy to alter his hormonal or autonomous nervous systems.

Finally, Kirk could stand the sound of Spock's chattering teeth no longer. Without a word, he edged nearer, bridging the inch or two that separated them from each other until their shoulders touched. In the darkness, he felt Spock tense.

"I know you don't like being touched but we're both cold." Kirk spoke softly, gently, as if talking to a nervous child, "What's more logical, to freeze separately or be warm together?"

The fight went out of Spock like sand out of a bottle; after all, they had been clinging to each other for most of the day, but he owed Kirk an explanation, something he attempted with very few humans.

"You… took me by surprise, Captain." He explained his voice strained and barely audible. "It was a moment before I could set my… mental barriers. However, I received only the most surface impressions from your mind…."

Kirk swore silently at his own ineptitude, "There's no need to apologize, Spock. I'm the one who has both feet in the… manure. If you prefer…I'll go back to sitting in my corner."

"That is… not necessary, sir." It was not the first time he had melded minds with his Captain. Once again, Kirk's thoughts surprised him with their orderliness and lack of emotional overtones. The shivers had abated considerably, and he felt warmth steal over him. "I am… grateful for your assistance."

Almost against his will he slipped into sleep, head pillowed on Kirk's shoulder, dreams filled with images of a cool stream burbling over moss-covered rocks.

Something heavy suddenly dragged across the paving outside their sanctuary startled Kirk awake. He woke Spock with a gentle shake and reached for his phaser. Although rested, his abused muscles had tightened into burning knots that refused to loosen as he hobbled across the cracked floor tiles toward the entrance of the temple.

The barrier had disappeared and in its place the alien artifact materialized, the knobby surface of its metallic skin highlighted by the first rays of a hot new dawn. Animated and full of life, it hummed busily to itself before flowing like dull silver into the shrine.

Spock, an arm clasped protectively around his injured ribs, forced himself upright as Kirk, his aches abruptly forgotten, backed rapidly toward him. Helplessly they watched the robot extend a bristling probe along with several assorted antennae. The robot fixed on Kirk. It followed him at a steady pace, intent on the prey, relentless in its obsessive intent.

Both men retreated as the machine rippled towards them. It shadowed their every move, forcing them further into the indistinct depths of the temple. All too soon, they ran out of space.

With Spock beside him, spine pressed up hard against cool stone, sweat trickling into his eyes and down his heaving sides, Kirk leveled his phaser, prepared to fire at point blank range. Now that it had finally come to it, he knew that he did not want to die. He never wanted to die. With pounding heart, he pressed down on the firing stud, watched as the phaser beam enveloped the artifact in a fiery blaze of red light. Spock mirrored Kirk's actions.

Still intact even after the barrage of phaser fire, the robot advanced once again. Kirk closed his eyes unwilling to witness his own demise. At any minute, he expected the touch of cold metal grappling hooks against his flesh, pulling him inexorably into the machine's embrace while it inserted the hollow tube, dripping green fluid, under his skin.

When Spock tapped him firmly on the shoulder he almost yelped in sheer terror. He opened his eyes, managed to turn his head in the First Officer's direction, still disinclined to look directly at the robot, which had stopped half an inch away, one of its probes centered on his laboring heart.

"I believe - it has switched itself off, Captain."

Kirk swallowed thickly, finding it difficult to talk, covertly glancing at the alien machine out of the corner of his eye. "I - think you may - be right, Mr. Spock. Could it have malfunctioned? Or did our phasers finally have an affect?"

"To find that out I will have to examine it more closely, sir."

Kirk vetoed that immediately, "Too dangerous, Mr. Spock. One false move and it could start up again."

"Until we ascertain what made it stop we will remain unsafe, sir. The Klingons will not be far behind. If they capture us, I doubt they will allow us to return to the Enterprise, even if we had not witnessed the events here. To establish even a rudimentary knowledge of the machine I must inspect its programming." He looked pointedly at Kirk. "In the circumstances, it is the only reasonable course, Captain."

The advice made sense and Kirk could not fault his First Officer's analysis of the situation. However, Spock did not happen to be only centimeters away from the menacingly narrow rod that gleamed faintly in the dawn light, and which jabbed Kirk in the chest every time he breathed too deeply. On the other hand, he could see no other way around the problem. They had to find out what made the mechanism tick - and fast.

"Very well, Mr. Spock. I see no other alternative." Kirk said, at last. "But no hasty moves. I want you to go slow and easy."

Real slow and real easy, he thought with a shudder as Spock started to examine the many prominent nodules that covered the outer skin of the robot. In due course, the First Officer located the main programming control and with increasing confidence used his tricorder to scan the inner encoding systems of the versatile machine. The Vulcan had already formed a partial deduction and it did not take him long to confirm it. He looked at Kirk with controlled excitement shining in his dark eyes.

"Most fascinating, sir. The Klingons have apparently programmed it to respond only to human body heat of 98.4 degrees and as we determined earlier, it does have a limited patrol area."

"So you were safe all the time." Kirk said, soberly.

"It seems so, Captain."

"Does it have an off switch, Mr. Spock? Or will it attack again as soon as I move?"

Spock's eyebrow arched upwards. "I disconnected the primary circuits some minutes ago, Captain. The robot is now quite harmless to either of us -"

"Uh-huh." Kirk let out his breath in a long sigh, sagging away from the wall. "Thank you for letting me know that, Mr. Spock."

Grimacing at his First Officer, he inched out from under the probe pinning him to the stonework, rubbing at the ache in the small of his back before moving to the entrance of the temple where he gazed out cautiously over the early morning landscape. Abruptly he glanced over his shoulder at Spock who had returned to the engrossing innards of the alien mechanism.

"Klingons, Spock. We have to get out of here. How long will it take to disable that thing? Permanently?"

Spock's expression was more than a little disapproving. "You mean destroy it, Captain?"

"It's the only way, Spock. We can't let the Klingons get hold of it again. If they ever managed to duplicate that thing -."

"There may be an alternative, sir. If I may suggest..."

Kirk had turned away, impatient to be gone. "Just do what's necessary, Spock. We don't have much time."

Spock set to work immediately. Only minutes later, he closed the panel on the control nodule and joined Kirk at the sanctuary entrance. Together they slipped out into the shade of the tree-like cacti, their feet almost silent on the thin, sandy terrain. Nearby came the faint sounds of other movement. The occasional glint of early morning sunlight on worked metal told them of the presence of Klingons.

Stealthily the two Enterprise officers dodged into cover as the six members of KyakH'ta's crew slowly advanced on the temple. One after another, they entered the building, disruptors drawn; unafraid it appeared of either the robot or the trapped Federation representatives they believed were inside.

Within seconds, they came boiling out, their quarry evidently forgotten as they took to their heels in flight.

"What did you do to that thing, Spock?" Kirk glanced at his First Officer with a suspicious glint in his eyes. Another form abruptly materialized in the temple entrance, a shape Kirk had come to know well. He paled as sunlight shimmered off the growth-like nodules, striking a metallic light from the narrow probe that seemed to scent the air. He groaned, "Oh, no... Mr. Spock, I thought I told you to -"

The alien artifact retracted its probe and ignoring them completely it rippled imperturbably forward after the fleeing Klingons. Kirk stared after it, his mouth dropping, "What the…"

"I believe you ordered me to do what was necessary, Captain." Spock regarded him with an almost nonchalant air. He arched an eyebrow, all the expression he needed. "I saw no logic in destroying such a remarkable construction. Therefore, I simply reprogrammed the robot to respond to a different set of stimuli."

Kirk stared at him dumbfounded for an instant before grinning slowly, his ire forgotten. "You mean I'm no longer the primary target for that automated metal … sack."

"Indeed not, Captain." Spock said, serene as ever. "As you saw, the mechanism is now only interested in…"

"Klingons." Kirk could contain his glee no longer. The grin exploded in a fit of high-pitched giggles.

"Why, of course, Captain."

Without further ado, still giggling, Kirk snapped his communicator open. The warm, highland burr of Chief Engineer Scott greeted him immediately.

"Glad ta' find ye' safe, sir. I'm sorry we had ta' leave so precipitously, but there was a wee problem wi' the Klingons, Captain."

"Understood, Scotty. How are the research scientists?"

"Doctor McCoy informs me they'll be as right as rain in another few days, sir. Are ye' an' Mr. Spock ready ta' beam back up, Captain?"

"Indeed we are, Scotty. You'll need to lock on to Navarin and Eluard. They're still at the base camp. Have Doctor McCoy standing by. And Scotty -"

"Aye, Captain?"

"I want the biggest jug of iced water you can find standing by. Is that understood, Chief?"

"Aye. Iced water standing by as ordered, sir. Scott out."

The End.


End file.
